“That we use it. If we don’t, someone else will, so we might as well have it,” Skúli said quickly. “It’ll have to be under an in-house byline, as the guy who’s done the legwork on it would probably be sacked if his employers find out he’s freelancing as well. So are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Gulli Ólafs?”
“I reckon you’d be right, especially taking the rumours about Helena Rós into account.”
“Thanks, Skúli. I’ll keep that to myself for the moment. But I’d really appreciate it if you let me know when this is going to hit any headlines. OK?”
“Will do. Got to go. There’s someone coming.”
The phone went dead in her hand and Gunna sat with a puzzled frown on her face as the raindrops started to rattle on the car’s roof.
“Message from the Laxdal,” Helgi said as he jumped into the car outside Bjarki Steinsson’s office building.
“Which is?” Gunna asked, letting out the clutch and roaring into the traffic.
“First, turn on your communicator. Second, he formally requested the Portuguese police pick up Sindri Valsson, but by the time they got round to knocking on his door, he’d done a bunk. He’s in Iceland, apparently, according to his neighbours.”
“Like hell,” Gunna grunted. “I’ll bet he’s sunning himself in Tortoiseland or whatever the bloody place is called.”
“Tortola, chief. It’s a tax haven in the British Virgin Islands.”
“I was just about to say that. But I suppose it’s out of our hands and he’ll surface eventually. What d’you reckon on Bjarki Steinsson?”
“Bloody hell, chief. The man’s distraught. He couldn’t have been more upset if had been his wife who had been murdered.”
“Still?”
“Yeah. Even more so because it seems Svana had gently given him the push, along with all the others.”
“Ah! Högni was telling the truth on that bit, at least.”
Helgi looked doubtful. ‘Who knows? I reckon he probably did it. They had a shouting match and he bashed his sister over the head in the heat of the moment. That’s what Sævaldur thinks, and I’m inclined to go along with him on this one.”
“Don’t bring Sævaldur Bogason into it. I don’t care if the man’s a chief inspector; he has neither imagination nor common sense.”
“Fair enough. Hallur next, then?”
“Yup, the oily bastard himself.”
“How was Jónas Valur?”
Gunna swerved to overtake a heavily loaded truck and cursed as the car behind flashed its lights.
“Yeah, piss off, or I’ll have you for dangerous driving,” Gunna yelled as the jeep sped past. “Let’s say that I’m more than likely not on Jónas Valur’s Christmas card list, nor likely to ever be on it, and my description is probably being circulated right now among the funny-handshake brigade with instructions to blight this bloody awkward old cow’s career at all costs.”
“A productive day’s work, then?”
“We’ll see a bit later on what happens. We’ll have an Interpol alert out for Sindri Valsson. I’ve told Eiríkur already that I want Jónas Valur tailed to see where he goes, and hopefully we’ll be able to track his mobile as well.”
“Serious stuff. Where are we seeing Hallur?”
“We’ll try his office to start with.”
Gunna parked close to the City Hall, flashing her warrant card at a parking attendant who saw them walk away from the car without buying a ticket. Inside the old building they found only a secretary, who seemed pleased to have company.
“He was here this morning and said he’d be back soon, but I haven’t seen him since,” she said plaintively. “His diary’s blank for the afternoon.”
“No idea where he is?”
The girl shook her head. “Haven’t a clue. Maybe you could try his mobile?”
Gunna and Helgi sat outside in the car.
“What d’you reckon, chief?”
“No idea. He’s not in Parliament, he’s not in his cubbyhole, he has no official business, otherwise the secretary would have been aware of it. He’s not shagging Svana and I somehow doubt that he’s at Fit Club. So where’s the least likely place a man like Hallur would be?”
“At home, I reckon.”
“We’d best try there and then give it up as a bad job,” Gunna said, starting the car once more.
It was a ten minute drive to the leafy suburb where Hallur Hallbjörnsson lived in the Vogar district, but it could have been a different world. There was birdsong instead of the incessant grumble of traffic, and Gunna wound down a window to let in a little fresh air as she took the car gently along the deserted street, looking out for twitching curtains in kitchen windows.
“Someone’s going to call the police in a minute, I expect,” she said grimly. “That’s his place, there.”
She pointed and drove slowly past.
“Car’s there,” Helgi said, peering through the sparse hedge as they passed the house, and Gunna reversed into a driveway to turn around and go back. Helgi screwed up his eyes to see better, staring at the antique Mercedes tucked as far along the driveway as it would go.
“Is he in the car?” Gunna asked. “Can you see him, Helgi?”
She stopped where they could see along the length of the driveway to the car half hidden behind some bushes.
“He’s been sitting there a while now.”